


the memories we made that didn't stay

by kuroosexual



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-07
Updated: 2017-09-07
Packaged: 2018-12-20 04:51:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11913594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuroosexual/pseuds/kuroosexual
Summary: Yuuri doesn’t remember anything. The realization hits Viktor all at once, and he feels his chest contorting, He doesn’t know what he expected honestly, since he did hit his head pretty hard - but the sudden heaviness that came upon him was suffocating him, and his breath comes out sporadic.Viktor wonders if Yuuri could hear his heart breaking.





	the memories we made that didn't stay

Viktor blankly stares at the white walls of the hospital, the loud and overwhelming sound of the beeping from the IV - it’ll haunt him forever, but it’ll be worth it if he gets to see Yuuri wake up.

Of course, he’ll wake up. The fall wasn’t even that bad, was it? Although, some nagging thought at the back of his head tells him that there’s still a chance, and Viktor promptly tells it to go fuck off.

He recalls the shared kisses on the ice, the soft smiles and the flushed cheeks. He remembers the daily practices, the laughs and the cheers of when they finally mastered one part of the routine; the way Yuuri blushes as he runs his hand through his hair, his lips parted.

He remembered the way Yuuri’s face contorts as he realizes he’s falling, Viktor’s own hands desperately reaching out to catch him - although never reaching him. He remembers the scared glances, lasting only milliseconds before Yuuri hits the ground, headfirst.

Viktor falls asleep beside Yuuri, never bothering to take off his uniform.

 

_________________________

 

“Hello?”

He hears a sweet, feminine voice on the other side of the line. “Is this Viktor Nikiforov?”

Viktor strains to respond. “Yes.” His mind swirls with thoughts - it’s the first day in weeks that he’s left the hospital - mostly just to take a proper shower and collect his thoughts a bit.

“He’s awake.”

Viktor doesn’t waste any time hanging up and bolting out of the door.

 

_________________________

 

“Viktor?” Yuuri calls from his bed, his voice hoarse. “Is that you?”

He immediately runs over to him, an enormous grin on his face, fervently kissing him like Viktor was the moth and Yuuri was the light - and he feels himself melting but he doesn’t care. He notices Yuuri’s surprised expression below him, and Viktor’s just so overjoyed that his precious Yuuri is okay  - and as his boyfriend, isn’t it normal to be caring this much?

What he doesn’t expect is for Yuuri to push him off aggressively, sending him crashing into the other side of the room; they’re both out of breath, and Yuuri suspiciously glares at him from across the room, albeit his eyes were still holding a soft gaze.

“I… know you’re one of those people that really enjoy affection and apparently that’s how you’d like to get to know me, as my coach,” he says, clearly annoyed. “But could you take a less forward approach?”

 _He doesn’t remember anything._ The realization hits him all at once, and he feels his chest contorting, He doesn’t know what he expected honestly, since he did hit his head pretty hard - but the sudden heaviness that came upon him was suffocating him, and his breath comes out sporadic.

Viktor wonders if Yuuri could hear his heart breaking.

 

They go back to Hasetsu again, after that. They’re greeted with warm welcomes from his parents and licks and nudges from Makkachin, but everyone could tell something was off.

Viktor tries his best to not cry as Yuuri thanks Viktor for being such a good coach for him over the months, but informs him that he’s still not feeling well enough to go back to the rink.

All of them - except Yuuri, who has already quietly climbed up to his own room - crowd around Viktor, comforting him and assuring him in sweet whispers and pats on the back.

 _He’ll remember,_ they say.

Viktor doesn’t know if he has the patience or the perseverance to wait.

 

_________________________

 

“That's the thing about heartbreak. It's the

smallest of worlds ending. Everyone goes around you  

smiling, like it's nothing to close a door.”

 

 **Clementine Von Radics,** _The Wedding_

 

_________________________

  


Yuuri doesn’t remember. Days pass, weeks, a whole month. Viktor spends more and more time in his room, uncontrollable tears flowing down in streams.

Yuuri opens the door to check on him - _everyone’s worried,_ he says. He cries harder as soon as he hears Yuuri’s voice, clutching a polaroid of them in his hand aggressively. He tells Yuuri to go practice on his own at the rink today, his voice cracking. He’ll join him as soon as he feels better.

“Why are you crying?”

Viktor attempts a feeble smile and lied through his tears. “I’ve been watching too many TV shows.”

“Well, I’ll be off then,” Yuuri says, already turning to leave. Viktor stares at him, his gaze soft but mournful - his eyes running down the length of his hips, his eyes watery.

“Be careful, Yuuri,” he says, his voice small. “I love you.”

Yuuri rolls his eyes, laughing genuinely. “Well, take care of yourself. I hope you feel better.”

His hands are shaking, and he tries to wipe the tears from his face - but to no avail. His eyes are puffy and red from crying, and the teardrops stain his cheek as it runs down, warm and wet. He remembers how they used to be, the hushed whispers and chaste kisses, because his heart feels so cold without him and it feels like Yuuri is already starting to slip away.

Maybe he already has.

 

_________________________

  
  


He skates around the rink, glad for once that no one was watching him - it really is an advantage, having the entire rink to himself.

Viktor enjoys the coldness of the ice, the way his skates glide smoothly and effortlessly over it. There wasn’t any music playing, only the rhythmic beat of his heart.

 _“He confessed to Yuuko last week.”_ He still remembers the words, spoken to him lightly, quietly - like it would break him if said too loud. It felt bitter on his tongue as he hissed the words, feeling resentment in his heart; to who, he doesn’t know - although, he’s sure it’s not towards Yuuri.

He feels tears pool up at the edges of his eyes, and he falls. His knees buckle from underneath him, and he kneels on the ice, his head in his hands.

He feels weak and useless inside, although he’s not injured from the fall.

He wishes he was; at least that way, he could forget, too.

 

_________________________

 

“Here is the truth:

It is hard to be in love with someone

who is in love someone else.

I don’t know how to turn that into poetry.”

 

 **Clementine Von Radics** , _Ten Love Letters_

 

_________________________

 

He smiled as Yuuri introduces Viktor to Yuuko, who gives him an apologetic look.

“My new girlfriend,” he said, all laughs and smiles. “I hope you don’t mind. As long as it doesn’t interfere with my practices, right?”

“Right,” he breathes, feeling his heart sink. _I’ve already lost you._

He smiled as he kisses Yuuko on the cheek. He smiles as she giggles, and kisses him back. He smiles as he notices the fleeting glances, the concealed hand holding, and the blushes. He doesn’t care, he tells himself. It doesn’t matter.

Why does he keep telling himself that when he knows it does? He does care - it _does_ matter to him, more than anything else in the world, and the crushing weight of the realization hits him like a thousand boulders, crushing him, smothering him.

It takes a million ounces of energy for Viktor to smile, but it takes a million more for him to try to actually mean it.

“ _I’m happy for you.”_

 

_________________________

 

They’re at a lunch reunion with Phichit, who just dropped by to visit two days ago, for a skating competition - it’s such a coincidence, that one of the final competitions would be held in Hasetsu.

Yuuri drops a few words about Yuuko, and how he’s so happy that they’re together, until Phichit suddenly narrows his eyes and takes a deep breath.

“What’s wrong?” Yuuri asks, confusion in his eyes. Phichit looks at him, then looks at Viktor, then at him, then at Viktor again. Viktor feels like he’s on the verge of tears.

“Weren’t you happy with Viktor?” he asks, the malice clear in his tone. “Did you guys… break up?”

Yuuri laughs, slightly disoriented. “I… don’t know what you mean.” He looks perplexed, and Viktor couldn’t bear to tell him the truth.

He’ll tell him one day, though. If not anything else, at least Yuuri deserves to know the truth - even if it’ll ruin their relationship forever. Just not yet.

“It was a joke,” he quickly replies. Phichit opens his mouth to say something, but stops as soon as he sees the mournful expression on Viktor’s face, filled with despair and melancholy.

The subject is quickly dropped as soon as it started, although the tension in the air lingered.

For once, Viktor is glad for the silence.

 

_________________________

 

They’re kissing. Yuuri’s lips are soft against his, filled with the clumsy fervour of youth, and their bodies, hot and sweaty, pressed against each other. They both blush furiously, leaning into each other’s touch, and Viktor’s hand slides down Yuuri’s shoulder, clutching his hip casually.

The world around them disappears as they kiss, and they focus on nothing but each other, their breaths all that can be heard. Yuuri’s beneath him, hot and sweaty, and Viktor smirks - he feels so powerful with Yuuri under him like this, and he feels a surge of dominance, and Yuuri’s face turns a shade of scarlet that rivals the velvet couch in their living room.

Viktor kisses down his neck, to his stomach, leaving a string of blue and purple love bites along his chest. “You’re beautiful, Yuuri,” he whispers, as he throws Yuuri’s shirt across the room - it’s expensive, and now completely ripped, but he doesn’t care.

They’re both out of breath. Viktor’s straddling Yuuri’s left leg, and his knee accidentally brushes his crotch, and Yuuri _moans._ It’s the most beautiful thing he’s heard in a long time, and he’s drinking in the sound as he blushes. Yuuri’s clenches his thighs, growing harder by the second - and Viktor has to gather his entire reservoir of energy to not moan right there and then.

He can feel Yuuri shaking beneath him, melting into the touch - and as Yuuri writhes about, Viktor feels the same victory that he feels on the ice, just within grasp, and the sight is better than any daydream he’s ever had.

“Viktor,” Yuuri croaks. Viktor smirks, and his expression is soft but mischievous. He goes to kiss Yuuri again, but there’s something stopping him - not exactly his own conscience but more of an invisible forcefield, per se.

Yuuri starts screaming and they both get enveloped in total darkness. Viktor wakes up, a panting, breathing mess, holding his blanket up to his chest.

 _It was a dream,_ he thinks half-heartedly. _It’s… just a dream._

He hisses, and the wave of memories come rushing back to him. _How he wishes to have Yuuri back._ The image of him is still clear, ingrained in his mind, and he feels a slight bit of euneirophrenia, one that isn’t shaken off so easily.

He falls asleep again after that, dreaming of blue glasses and tousled black hair.

 

_________________________

 

Yuuri frowns. “What’s this?”

Viktor promptly copies his expression, immediately taking back his phone, closing the screen; he doesn’t want to look at the picture on his lock screen anymore. It’s a selfie of them in the ice rink in Hasetsu, smiling and laughing.

They’re kissing, and they both have stupid smiles plastered on their face, with a joyful Makkachin jumping up and down in the background - he put it as his lock screen as soon as they took it, and never bothered to change it back. Never _wanted_ to change it back, was more like it - he wanted to hold on to even the slightest shard of their past.

“Um…” he stutters, not exactly knowing what to say. He knows that whatever he could think up on the spot would be a string of incoherent sentences anyway, so he decides to just wing it.

“I think you should know something.” Yuuri’s expression turns softer, replaced with one of curiosity and slight confusion. “Before you hit your head on the ice… you remember that, right? It’s why you were in the hospital?” Yuuri nods earnestly. “We were dating. It wasn’t like it was open to the public or anything, but we were. And…” he trails off, already out of breath. He really was pathetic, wasn’t he?

Yuuri laughs, and Viktor’s chest lightens. _So he finally remembers, huh?_ “That’s funny,” he says, smiling genuinely. “Although, it wasn’t as convincing as it could’ve been. I’m not gay, remember?” And Viktor feels his heart breaking all over again, and he wonders if his expression of frustration and chagrin was visible to him.

 _I’m not gay._ He said it happily, like everything was a joke - although it feels like there was a hint of disgust in his tone - was it really that antipathic, the thought of dating him?

“Anyways, I have to go shower. Tomorrow’s a training day, yeah?”

The “confession” went better than Viktor expected - at least Yuri didn’t flip him off in pure disgust and told him that he never wanted to see him again. 

But it didn’t exactly go the way he wanted, either.

“Yeah.”

 

_________________________

 

Yuuri makes it to the Grand Prix Finals, and Viktor couldn’t have been more ecstatic. Yuuko doesn’t come along with them in favor of looking over the rink, and Viktor would’ve been athrilled if he didn’t know that whatever hope he had would’ve been false, anyway.

Yuuri’s sleeping soundly in the fluffy hotel bed - he doesn’t blame him, it’s 12 in the morning and he’s definitely tired from all the practices and drills they did today. He looks peaceful, his chest rising up and down with each consecutive breath, his hair tousled but endearing nonetheless.

He watches him, his eyes soft and his mouth curved into a small smile, and his inner conscience tells him that it’s probably incredibly creepy and also equally gay, but Viktor just waves it off.

Viktor tucks himself into bed right beside Yuuri, giving him the gentlest kiss he can muster without waking Yuuri up.

He’s convinced himself to come to terms that yes, he really has lost him, and the relationship that he took for granted just a few months ago doesn’t really have a happy ending.

People change. Memories stay - although, in this case, it’s been forgotten, as well. He’s at least glad that he’s still able to remember everything; he wouldn’t give it away even if every single thing reminds him of Yuuri, of what they had. Of what they _could’ve_ had.

Viktor is an understanding person, and if Yuuri was happy with Yuuko, then so be it. He’d lie through his teeth and risk his heart breaking a thousand more times, if only it’d keep Yuuri happy.

“Goodbye, Yuuri,” he whispers, a resigned smile blossoming on his lips.

He doesn’t realize he’s crying again until his pillow is stained with tears.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
